"That will be perfectly lovely."
Her resources of expression were not copious, but her eyes and her
mouth spoke volumes of joy and gratitude. Her hands were full of roses,
and as she raised her beautiful face to him with pleasure flashing from
her warm cheeks and lips and eyes, she seemed to exhale something of
the vigorous life and impulse of the spring sunshine. Farnham felt that
he had nothing to do but stoop and kiss the blooming flower-like face,
and in her exalted condition she would have thought little more of it
than a blush-rose thinks of the same treatment.
But he refrained, and said "Good morning," because she seemed in no
mood to say it first.
"Good-by, for a day or two," she said, gayly, as she bent her head to
pass under the low lintel of the gate.
Farnham walked back to the house not at all satisfied with himself. "I
wonder whether I have mended matters? She is certainly too pretty a
girl to be running in and out of my front door in the sight of all the
avenue. How much better will it be for her to use the private entrance,
and come and go by a sort of stealth! But then she does not regard it
that way.
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